Yes, I've been racking up mileage, but have I been climbing? Well...no. This past Saturday was my first attempt to remedy that. With the help of my new eTrex, Google Maps, Google Earth, and GPSBabel, I created a GPX file that would get me to Malabar Farms, home of many short and steep climbs. I still don't think I approached anything close to what I'll see on the Appalachian Mountains Loop. About the best I can hope for within 100 miles of the house is 400-500 feet of elevation change total, and none of the climbs are more than maybe 300 feet of vertical gain. The kicker is that I more or less had my lunch handed to me over 146 miles. Matters were not helped by me forcing my body into a total bonk. It's kind of funny now, but at the time I thought it would be a good idea to see how I would react mentally and physically if I ran out of food and water. It could happen on the AML so why not be prepared, I thought. So how did I react? Uh, not well. The only lesson I learned is make damn sure I don't run out of food and water. My mood could have best been described as blackout. Just guessing but I was probably about 15 minutes away from going feral. Not surprisingly the ride taken as a whole was a bit of a confidence shaker.
Over the last couple of days I've reflected on the ride and looked at the component pieces that conspired to knock me off my perch, and I realize it's probably for the best. I've been starting to form some unrealistic expectations of what can be accomplished during the AML. As much as I am about the journey and not the destination, I have a bad habit of setting unrealistic goals that aren't based on anything other than mostly wild-ass guesses. Saturday's ride was a Chuck Norris roundhouse to the temple, shattering some of the crazy notions I had about how I was going to conquer the AML. Humility is once again my watchword, and my ego is riding in the backseat with it's mouth taped shut.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Roll with it
What a weekend! It had all the hallmarks of being an ordinary, "didn't ride as much as I wanted" weekend. Instead, I racked up 205 miles over two days, and got my ass handed to me at Frankenbike.
The week had been less than stellar, riding just 2 of the five days so I was pinning a lot on the weekend. I rode Friday morning in the hopes of fitting in two rides, but it just wasn't to be. I still want to be a father and husband so I bagged the afternoon ride in favor of a family dinner and the wife and I working our way through season 5 of Dexter. It was a good evening and I was excited about the weekend cycling plans. Keith, a seasoned MTBer and I had planned for Saturday at Mohican with 24 miles of singletrack as our playground. Unfortunately, the threat of thunderstorms forced us to push to Sunday which opened up the day for me to plan a day-long ride. Then came the curveball.
My wife scheduled an aerobics class for 9:15 on Saturday morning. My daughter had a friend sleeping over and I could not provide adequate parental supervision, or make pancakes, from sixty miles away. Improvisation demanded and delivered. I had a quilt and tent that needing sewing and I needed to learn how to sew. OK, I can adapt. My mother-in-law was hastily called in to teach me to sew on Saturday morning. Fine.
Except Saturday morning my wife was home from aerobics at 9:30 from a class that doesn't end until 10:15. What the hell?! Suffice it to say, she did not attend. I'm sorry to say that I was more than a little annoyed and was feeling very self-righteous; something along the lines of "does she have no respect for what I trying to do?" I can't change the fact that I thought this, but I am thankful I did not give voice to these thoughts, and with a little reflection I realize just how much she is accomodating me and my lunacy; just another lesson in humility and perspective.
So the net of all these changes was that I left for a ride around 11:30 with a brief stop at the Westerville Bike Shop to discuss cleat position and knee issues with Mike. And just in case I haven't said it before, Mason and Mike are awesome. Forget Trek, Roll, BicycleOne and BikeSource, if you want good advice that comes from a lifetime of riding and repairing bikes, go see Mason or Mike at the Westerville Bike Shop. They are not interested in getting rich. They just want everyone to ride a bike and enjoy it. Love those guys!
I had no firm plans on my route as I rolled out of Westerville, and I found myself taking the right-hand fork in Galena that leads to Sunbury. Then onto North Old 3C Highway which after two rights and two lefts leads to Centerburg and my old friend, the Heart of Ohio Trail. A few course deviations were required but I ended up riding to Fredericksburg and back, 180 miles and 90 minutes faster thant the first time I rode it. Hurrah! Even better, the cleat adjustment must have been spot-on as there was zero knee pain or soreness. This is welcome news. For the mileage I am planning, my position has to be near perfect. Any misalignment will manifest in a knee, an ankle, my lower back... I know that position is a moving target, and there will be adjustments from season-to-season, year-to-year, and bike-to-bike. It just feels good to be somewhere solid right now. Finally, I arrived home on Sunday morning just after 1:00. I was cold and tired. After 13 hours of riding, I had just 11 hours before Frankenbike started. Yeah, Keith and I settled on Frankenbike instead of Mohican. For me, it was somewhere around the 103-mile point. It was clearly a case of biting off more than I could chew.
Sunday morning...I mean later Sunday morning, I wake before 7:00. Damn my body clock! Coffee, pasta, bibs into the washer and dryer, swap my rear tire for something with some tread, and off we go for who knows what. We arrive 20 minutes before the race (I mean ride!) begins. We make it in time to be treated to a truly magnificent pre-ride briefing. More f-bombs than you could shake a f***ing stick at put everyone in the right mood for what lay ahead. And oh, what lay ahead! Up or down, no flat for me! I weigh about 20 pounds more than Keith but that does not fully account for the difference in climbing speed. I would wager that he might be the best 220-pound climber you'll ever meet. And he is a gifted descender. He will defer and give credit to his full-suspension Salsa rig, but it's a lot more him than it is the bike. Unfortunately, I was cooked after 25 miles and did not (could not) go out for the second loop. I took a nap while Keith tackled the second 25. Yes, I was tired from the previous day's effort, but the real story is that I do not climb enough and I will pay for that at the AML. That is for sure. Credit to Mason and his crew for a great course and some great entertainment. Finally, Scioto Trails has some epic singletrack, and I highly encourage an excursion if you are in the area.
For the record, 283 miles (new high) for the week and a weigh-in of 236.2 pounds (new low).
The week had been less than stellar, riding just 2 of the five days so I was pinning a lot on the weekend. I rode Friday morning in the hopes of fitting in two rides, but it just wasn't to be. I still want to be a father and husband so I bagged the afternoon ride in favor of a family dinner and the wife and I working our way through season 5 of Dexter. It was a good evening and I was excited about the weekend cycling plans. Keith, a seasoned MTBer and I had planned for Saturday at Mohican with 24 miles of singletrack as our playground. Unfortunately, the threat of thunderstorms forced us to push to Sunday which opened up the day for me to plan a day-long ride. Then came the curveball.
My wife scheduled an aerobics class for 9:15 on Saturday morning. My daughter had a friend sleeping over and I could not provide adequate parental supervision, or make pancakes, from sixty miles away. Improvisation demanded and delivered. I had a quilt and tent that needing sewing and I needed to learn how to sew. OK, I can adapt. My mother-in-law was hastily called in to teach me to sew on Saturday morning. Fine.
Except Saturday morning my wife was home from aerobics at 9:30 from a class that doesn't end until 10:15. What the hell?! Suffice it to say, she did not attend. I'm sorry to say that I was more than a little annoyed and was feeling very self-righteous; something along the lines of "does she have no respect for what I trying to do?" I can't change the fact that I thought this, but I am thankful I did not give voice to these thoughts, and with a little reflection I realize just how much she is accomodating me and my lunacy; just another lesson in humility and perspective.
So the net of all these changes was that I left for a ride around 11:30 with a brief stop at the Westerville Bike Shop to discuss cleat position and knee issues with Mike. And just in case I haven't said it before, Mason and Mike are awesome. Forget Trek, Roll, BicycleOne and BikeSource, if you want good advice that comes from a lifetime of riding and repairing bikes, go see Mason or Mike at the Westerville Bike Shop. They are not interested in getting rich. They just want everyone to ride a bike and enjoy it. Love those guys!
I had no firm plans on my route as I rolled out of Westerville, and I found myself taking the right-hand fork in Galena that leads to Sunbury. Then onto North Old 3C Highway which after two rights and two lefts leads to Centerburg and my old friend, the Heart of Ohio Trail. A few course deviations were required but I ended up riding to Fredericksburg and back, 180 miles and 90 minutes faster thant the first time I rode it. Hurrah! Even better, the cleat adjustment must have been spot-on as there was zero knee pain or soreness. This is welcome news. For the mileage I am planning, my position has to be near perfect. Any misalignment will manifest in a knee, an ankle, my lower back... I know that position is a moving target, and there will be adjustments from season-to-season, year-to-year, and bike-to-bike. It just feels good to be somewhere solid right now. Finally, I arrived home on Sunday morning just after 1:00. I was cold and tired. After 13 hours of riding, I had just 11 hours before Frankenbike started. Yeah, Keith and I settled on Frankenbike instead of Mohican. For me, it was somewhere around the 103-mile point. It was clearly a case of biting off more than I could chew.
Sunday morning...I mean later Sunday morning, I wake before 7:00. Damn my body clock! Coffee, pasta, bibs into the washer and dryer, swap my rear tire for something with some tread, and off we go for who knows what. We arrive 20 minutes before the race (I mean ride!) begins. We make it in time to be treated to a truly magnificent pre-ride briefing. More f-bombs than you could shake a f***ing stick at put everyone in the right mood for what lay ahead. And oh, what lay ahead! Up or down, no flat for me! I weigh about 20 pounds more than Keith but that does not fully account for the difference in climbing speed. I would wager that he might be the best 220-pound climber you'll ever meet. And he is a gifted descender. He will defer and give credit to his full-suspension Salsa rig, but it's a lot more him than it is the bike. Unfortunately, I was cooked after 25 miles and did not (could not) go out for the second loop. I took a nap while Keith tackled the second 25. Yes, I was tired from the previous day's effort, but the real story is that I do not climb enough and I will pay for that at the AML. That is for sure. Credit to Mason and his crew for a great course and some great entertainment. Finally, Scioto Trails has some epic singletrack, and I highly encourage an excursion if you are in the area.
For the record, 283 miles (new high) for the week and a weigh-in of 236.2 pounds (new low).
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Labor Day update
I have reached a plateau. I knew it would come sooner or later. I've lost right around 40 pounds and the body seems to be fighting my attempts to lose more. My initial response in the past has been frustration followed by ever more desperate weight loss techniques. This time around I'm shooting for a reasonable response. For instance, I had a flat week and indulged this weekend. I shouldn't really be surprised that I continue to hover around the 240 mark. Fortunately, I can refer to spreadsheet tracking my weight loss for a little bit of reassurance and motivation.
The long Sunday ride (130 miles) was preceded on Saturday by a 56-mile ride where I averaged 16 mph. I am slowly starting to put back-to-back long rides together. Sunday was a pretty important ride mostly because I started out feeling uncomfortable in the saddle and I didn't have the freshest legs. There will be days during the TD where I feel lousy so I need some familiarity. The on and off rain made sure I never really got comfortable. I was constantly up and out of the saddle to give my hindparts a break. I managed about 13 mph but the chafing got pretty bad towards the end and I'm still feeling it 36 hours later. I'm happy to have ridden the distance I intended when not at my best. Clearly though, I'm going to have to find a way to prevent the chafing as it results from pretty much any ride over four hours. I think I'll give Vaeline a try next. I thought Gold Bond powder would be the answer but it's difficult to apply while wearing bibs. Trailside just doesn't seem private enough for a proper application. Not to mention that when the rain is pouring no amount of powder is going to work.
On the kit assembly, I received my materials from Ray Jardine and have begun making the quilt. I had a heck of a time cutting the material with the scissors we own. Today will include a visit to the crafts store for a pair that can cut fabric. I'm really impressed with the package from Ray. For someone that's a total noob with a sewing machine, I find his instructions thorough and extremely helpful. I'm hoping the results are worthy of the design. More importantly, I hope it allows me restful sleep.
So here's a quick aside about surprises. The scissors reminded me that surprises are generally not good. The last three or four years I've been working on a list of universal truths. One that's been hard to get a handle on is this; the fewer surprises a person experiences, the happier they are. That's the working statement, subject to revision or complete dismissal. My thinking goes like this. As children we are conditioned to think surprises are good. Christmas and birthday presents are often purchased and held under a veil of secrecy while the child eagerly counts the days. Trips to the movies, the mall, or the playground are surprise rewards for good behavior. These are all parental constructs that manufacture the idea of a good surprise. In reality, surprises are seldom good news. In my experience, surprises often grow out of little things that repeatedly escape our notice until they become big show-stopping problems. Stranded on the side of the rode because the car ran out of gas or broke down due to missed maintenance? No milk for the kid's cereal? Getting calls from collections because a bill is past due? Putting on ten or fifteen pounds a year? These things are not inevitable. They usually just require us to pay attention. As I write this, I realize that there are plenty of good surprises; unexpected tranquility probably tops my list. I think what I'm trying to get at is this: we frequently cause our own problems and undermine the peace we seek. My assumption that the scissors would be up to the task put me in a bad mood as I struggled through the quilt project. Not a recipe for success or peace.
The long Sunday ride (130 miles) was preceded on Saturday by a 56-mile ride where I averaged 16 mph. I am slowly starting to put back-to-back long rides together. Sunday was a pretty important ride mostly because I started out feeling uncomfortable in the saddle and I didn't have the freshest legs. There will be days during the TD where I feel lousy so I need some familiarity. The on and off rain made sure I never really got comfortable. I was constantly up and out of the saddle to give my hindparts a break. I managed about 13 mph but the chafing got pretty bad towards the end and I'm still feeling it 36 hours later. I'm happy to have ridden the distance I intended when not at my best. Clearly though, I'm going to have to find a way to prevent the chafing as it results from pretty much any ride over four hours. I think I'll give Vaeline a try next. I thought Gold Bond powder would be the answer but it's difficult to apply while wearing bibs. Trailside just doesn't seem private enough for a proper application. Not to mention that when the rain is pouring no amount of powder is going to work.
On the kit assembly, I received my materials from Ray Jardine and have begun making the quilt. I had a heck of a time cutting the material with the scissors we own. Today will include a visit to the crafts store for a pair that can cut fabric. I'm really impressed with the package from Ray. For someone that's a total noob with a sewing machine, I find his instructions thorough and extremely helpful. I'm hoping the results are worthy of the design. More importantly, I hope it allows me restful sleep.
So here's a quick aside about surprises. The scissors reminded me that surprises are generally not good. The last three or four years I've been working on a list of universal truths. One that's been hard to get a handle on is this; the fewer surprises a person experiences, the happier they are. That's the working statement, subject to revision or complete dismissal. My thinking goes like this. As children we are conditioned to think surprises are good. Christmas and birthday presents are often purchased and held under a veil of secrecy while the child eagerly counts the days. Trips to the movies, the mall, or the playground are surprise rewards for good behavior. These are all parental constructs that manufacture the idea of a good surprise. In reality, surprises are seldom good news. In my experience, surprises often grow out of little things that repeatedly escape our notice until they become big show-stopping problems. Stranded on the side of the rode because the car ran out of gas or broke down due to missed maintenance? No milk for the kid's cereal? Getting calls from collections because a bill is past due? Putting on ten or fifteen pounds a year? These things are not inevitable. They usually just require us to pay attention. As I write this, I realize that there are plenty of good surprises; unexpected tranquility probably tops my list. I think what I'm trying to get at is this: we frequently cause our own problems and undermine the peace we seek. My assumption that the scissors would be up to the task put me in a bad mood as I struggled through the quilt project. Not a recipe for success or peace.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Fourteen hours on a bike
172 miles...finally. For 14 1/2 hours I pedaled my way through the middle of Ohio. From the edge of the North American Interior Plains to the transitional rolling foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.I don't imagine that the effort expended will match even the easiest day on the AML 400 or the TD, but it is noteworthy and tells me I am on the right track. For a route that allows me to start and finish in my driveway there is a decent amount of forest, or otherwise unimproved, road. I estimate about 32 miles worth. Again, it doesn't really come close to what I'll see on the TD, but the hours are starting to get close anyhow.The trails I used this past weekend take on a different aspect once I crossed Route 62 near Brinkhaven. A remnant of my childhood, the rundown barn with a faded Mail Pouch ad, is the true demarcation point for the trail's transition to Amish country. The tracks left by my Hutchinsons were quickly erased in the wake of so many horse and buggy passings. When I rolled back through five hours later, all remnants of my ride out were wiped clean. It is truly something special and different. The pace of life feels natural, not rushed. I begin to understand how the things I own really own me. I am very happy to have found the trail from Danville to Glenmont. It was certainly the best part of the ride.
If I thought there was a big Amish population surrounding Danville, I was absolutely blown away by the vibrant social life in and around the Holmes County Trail I picked up in Killbuck. For fifteen miles the Holmes County Trail winds from Killbuck to Fredericksburg going through Millersburg and Holmesville. It is a multi-use paved trail with enough traffic around the Millersburg area to rival the car traffic on the surrounding roads. The ubiquitous Walmart wasn't more than 100 feet from the trail as I passed through the Millersburg Business District.
Personally, the truly remarkable thing about all of this is that I covered 102 miles before I had the first hint of a problem. All of my senses were tuned outward soaking up the experience. Usually I'm fighting hand numbness (fixed with Ergon grips), very painful right little toe (fixed with lambswool and some rest apparently), sore back (functional strength training), and a sore butt. That last one bedeviled me for quite a while until I had an epiphany. I sweat a lot and my shorts get wet, not just damp. I recently tried chamois cream but it didn't seem to do much after the first couple of hours. Enter Gold Bond Powder. I've used it for the past decade in my shoes and sometimes after a shower but never during the ride. What a difference! Even after the entire 172 miles, I could have easily ridden 100 more miles in the saddle.
Unfortunately I did have a problem beginning at the 102-mile mark and it persisted for the next 78 miles. The top and inside part of my right knee started registering an ever-increasing level of pain. No amount of shifting or changing positions provided more than very temporary relief. The only thing I could do was stop, rest, and stretch. Of course, I did this because I've ridden long enough to know that you don't mess around with knee soreness. I admit to being a little baffled as to the cause since nothing on the bike had changed since my last 100+-mile ride. Failing anything else, I have to consider the pedals as the culprit. They are a used pair of Time ATACs. Yes, they are very stable and durable. However, they have a very wide connection point and I find my cleat sliding to the far outside edge of the pedal. The position is so far from normal that my Sidi Dominators warp if I try to move my foot back to level. I am going to try the Shimano PD-M540s and hope for better results.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Back to reality
So I read Markley Anderson's write-up (http://teamcrank.wordpress.com/) of his Appalachian Mountains Loop (AML) ITT in March. I don't know if reading it will turn out to be good or bad. First of all, the guy wins just about every time he races. Second, he rode the AML straight without sleep, and by doing so set a time that isn't really touchable.
Now this may be a good thing because it forces me to realize that I will not be able to beat the course record. Instead of riding at a pace that is unrealistic in the hopes of beating a record that is untouchable, I will use this first attempt at an ultra-endurance event to evaluate my kit choices and see how my body responds to the prolonged effort. On normal days eating, drinking, and sleeping can be done for pleasure and without any feeling of necessity. Some of my longer rides (100+) remind me that eating, drinking, and sleeping should be done with purpose. During the AML and later during the TD, it will be absolutely essential.
On the other hand this may be a bad thing because some of my motivation is sapped knowing that I cannot beat Markley's time. I can tell myself "this is your first attempt," "you can ride it again in the spring," and so on, but it's only so effective.
Ultimately, it does put the challenge where it should be; on me. I have to do the fastest time I can manage. Holding myself to someone else's standard is almost surely a recipe for disaster. Let's just state this plainly. At best, I will still be carrying 40 pounds of body weight that I still need to lose before the Tour Divide. Getting that extra weight over 30,000 vertical feet will be an accomplishment in itself.
In other news, the requisite spreadsheet with kit options, cost in weight and dollars, and degree of necessity is shaping up and I'll start pulling the trigger on some purchases. Of course, all of the choices are made with an eye towards using on the Tour Divide. Some of the kit choices I've made so far...
Niterider PRO 1400
Some flashy red rear LED
Revelate Viscacha
Garmin Edge 605
ACA laminated maps
Ray-Way Tarp, Net-Tent, and Quilt
Ergon GP1 grips
Selle Italia TT saddle
One (1) 22-ounce water bottle (for drink mixes)
One (1) 6L Dromedary with Hydration kit
Stoker bar repurposed for additional handlebar space
Generic aero bars
Aleve
Assos chamois cream
I haven't decided on a frame bag/bar bag combo or backpack. My plan for the AML is to save weight by dropping extra water bottles, rain gear, any extra clothing, and minimizing bags used since I will be over so much on body weight. I will publish my kit with pictures when I think I have it ready for the AML, probably around the end of September. A full review will follow the AML.
Now this may be a good thing because it forces me to realize that I will not be able to beat the course record. Instead of riding at a pace that is unrealistic in the hopes of beating a record that is untouchable, I will use this first attempt at an ultra-endurance event to evaluate my kit choices and see how my body responds to the prolonged effort. On normal days eating, drinking, and sleeping can be done for pleasure and without any feeling of necessity. Some of my longer rides (100+) remind me that eating, drinking, and sleeping should be done with purpose. During the AML and later during the TD, it will be absolutely essential.
On the other hand this may be a bad thing because some of my motivation is sapped knowing that I cannot beat Markley's time. I can tell myself "this is your first attempt," "you can ride it again in the spring," and so on, but it's only so effective.
Ultimately, it does put the challenge where it should be; on me. I have to do the fastest time I can manage. Holding myself to someone else's standard is almost surely a recipe for disaster. Let's just state this plainly. At best, I will still be carrying 40 pounds of body weight that I still need to lose before the Tour Divide. Getting that extra weight over 30,000 vertical feet will be an accomplishment in itself.
In other news, the requisite spreadsheet with kit options, cost in weight and dollars, and degree of necessity is shaping up and I'll start pulling the trigger on some purchases. Of course, all of the choices are made with an eye towards using on the Tour Divide. Some of the kit choices I've made so far...
Niterider PRO 1400
Some flashy red rear LED
Revelate Viscacha
Garmin Edge 605
ACA laminated maps
Ray-Way Tarp, Net-Tent, and Quilt
Ergon GP1 grips
Selle Italia TT saddle
One (1) 22-ounce water bottle (for drink mixes)
One (1) 6L Dromedary with Hydration kit
Stoker bar repurposed for additional handlebar space
Generic aero bars
Aleve
Assos chamois cream
I haven't decided on a frame bag/bar bag combo or backpack. My plan for the AML is to save weight by dropping extra water bottles, rain gear, any extra clothing, and minimizing bags used since I will be over so much on body weight. I will publish my kit with pictures when I think I have it ready for the AML, probably around the end of September. A full review will follow the AML.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Fear
I have a confession. I am afraid of the dark. I'm also afraid of being alone in an
unfamiliar place. I know these are not unique fears. Entire movie franchises are built on
them. My problem is there will be plenty of both during the three or so weeks of the
Tour Divide. There are plenty of mitigating options at my disposal if I choose. I could spare myself the loneliness and find a pace that just so happens to keep me in the company of others, but wouldn't I be violating the spirit of the adventure? Do I fear my own thoughts so much that I would rather participate in a rolling group chat than look deeply into the dark places of my mind? It seems like I would be cheating myself out of an incredible opportunity. This is in the forefront of my mind after yesterday's ride.
Last night I rode for about five hours (three or so in complete darkness) to the
east and northeast of Columbus on roads with which I am familiar. I have not ridden these roads at night. And while it is true that there is nothing there at night that is not also there during the day, the lack of visibility constantly challenges that fact. My imagination kicks in and all sorts of nature (some of it supernatural) lurks in the shadows, waiting. My only defense against the howling fantods is; a, logic, and b, the riding.
First, logic and its big brother, reason, blow giant holes through the flights of
fancy my primal brain can invent when left to its own devices. Even though others refer to me as "crazy" for my riding habits, I know that any additional risk incurred by riding at night can be mitigated with a few simple preventative measures. Further (and sillier), the weird monster from "Jeepers Creepers", the vampiric child from "Let the Right One In", or David the werewolf from "An American Werewolf in London" (all of which were chasing me at some point last night) are nothing but figments...of flesh and bone that will someday feast on my flesh and blood when I least expect it. SEE?! Ahem, they are figments of my imagination, of course (...not). STOP IT!
Second, the riding gives me purpose. I don't know why this holds the terror at bay but it does. It may be illusory but the rightness of the purpose, while not protecting me in any way from actual danger, does prioritize the fear. I think this is an important (to me anyhow) point since it reinforces something I've been thinking for a while. Namely, we never really change our basic nature. We can shed some learned behaviors if properly incentivized, and everything else we'd like to change gets a coping mechanism of varying effectiveness. For me, the goal of the Tour Divide helps me cope with the fear and loneliness. I'm far from objective but I'd venture to say it is one of the healthier coping strategies as opposed to say, never going out after dark or never going anywhere by myself. That just hides the problem whereas like an immunization I am dealing with my fears while they are in a weakened state, or maybe I'm in a strengthened state.
Finally, thank all things good and decent that Nick Drake wrote Hazy Jane. That was the soundtrack in my head last night and was MUCH preferable to the Digital Underground from the previous long ride. I don't often quote song lyrics, but he captures some basic human failures in perhaps the most gentle language I've ever heard. Mentally, it made for a very pleasant ride. For your consideration,
"Do you curse where you come from?
Do you swear in the night?
Would it mean much to you
if I treat you right?
Do you like what you're doing?
Would you do it some more?
Or would you stop once and wonder,
what you're doing it for?
Do you feel like a remnant
Of something that's past?
Do you find things are moving
Just a little too fast?
Do you hope to find new ways
Of quenching your thirst?
Do you hope to find new ways
Of doing better than your worst?"
Have a good day, one and all.
unfamiliar place. I know these are not unique fears. Entire movie franchises are built on
them. My problem is there will be plenty of both during the three or so weeks of the
Tour Divide. There are plenty of mitigating options at my disposal if I choose. I could spare myself the loneliness and find a pace that just so happens to keep me in the company of others, but wouldn't I be violating the spirit of the adventure? Do I fear my own thoughts so much that I would rather participate in a rolling group chat than look deeply into the dark places of my mind? It seems like I would be cheating myself out of an incredible opportunity. This is in the forefront of my mind after yesterday's ride.
Last night I rode for about five hours (three or so in complete darkness) to the
east and northeast of Columbus on roads with which I am familiar. I have not ridden these roads at night. And while it is true that there is nothing there at night that is not also there during the day, the lack of visibility constantly challenges that fact. My imagination kicks in and all sorts of nature (some of it supernatural) lurks in the shadows, waiting. My only defense against the howling fantods is; a, logic, and b, the riding.
First, logic and its big brother, reason, blow giant holes through the flights of
fancy my primal brain can invent when left to its own devices. Even though others refer to me as "crazy" for my riding habits, I know that any additional risk incurred by riding at night can be mitigated with a few simple preventative measures. Further (and sillier), the weird monster from "Jeepers Creepers", the vampiric child from "Let the Right One In", or David the werewolf from "An American Werewolf in London" (all of which were chasing me at some point last night) are nothing but figments...of flesh and bone that will someday feast on my flesh and blood when I least expect it. SEE?! Ahem, they are figments of my imagination, of course (...not). STOP IT!
Second, the riding gives me purpose. I don't know why this holds the terror at bay but it does. It may be illusory but the rightness of the purpose, while not protecting me in any way from actual danger, does prioritize the fear. I think this is an important (to me anyhow) point since it reinforces something I've been thinking for a while. Namely, we never really change our basic nature. We can shed some learned behaviors if properly incentivized, and everything else we'd like to change gets a coping mechanism of varying effectiveness. For me, the goal of the Tour Divide helps me cope with the fear and loneliness. I'm far from objective but I'd venture to say it is one of the healthier coping strategies as opposed to say, never going out after dark or never going anywhere by myself. That just hides the problem whereas like an immunization I am dealing with my fears while they are in a weakened state, or maybe I'm in a strengthened state.
Finally, thank all things good and decent that Nick Drake wrote Hazy Jane. That was the soundtrack in my head last night and was MUCH preferable to the Digital Underground from the previous long ride. I don't often quote song lyrics, but he captures some basic human failures in perhaps the most gentle language I've ever heard. Mentally, it made for a very pleasant ride. For your consideration,
"Do you curse where you come from?
Do you swear in the night?
Would it mean much to you
if I treat you right?
Do you like what you're doing?
Would you do it some more?
Or would you stop once and wonder,
what you're doing it for?
Do you feel like a remnant
Of something that's past?
Do you find things are moving
Just a little too fast?
Do you hope to find new ways
Of quenching your thirst?
Do you hope to find new ways
Of doing better than your worst?"
Have a good day, one and all.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Mind, mind!
I spend a lot of time thinking. With the increased time spent riding solo, that time has only increased. I don't know if I had any purpose in mind for that increased time spent thinking, but I'm sure that by default I expected to solve the global problems of peace, hunger, and sustainability. Now it bears mentioning that some ideas in my head sound positively crazy when I try to verbalize them. I simply haven't mastered the vocabulary needed to transform some ideas from thought to statement. This past weekend though I have no problem relating what I was thinking about. Yes, the "intellectual" mind of Sean Brinker was caught on multiple occasions regurgitating the lyrics to the "Humpty Dance." Somewhere around mile 80 I started to get annoyed with myself. I tried to substitute other songs, make up a new song, or just generally think about anything else. None of it worked. Like a wheel rut on a muddy road, at the first moment of inattention my brain would slide right back into "that's all right cuz my body's in motion, it s'posed to look like a fit or a convulsion..." If I had to face that for three weeks on the Tour Divide, I'd probably just ride right off a cliff.
As I try to use each ride as a learning opportunity, Saturday reminded me that the hours I am riding both before and during the event will likely tax my mind as much, if not more, than the body. That's a hard thing to anticipate when so much of the preparation centers around training the body, specifically addressing the known pain points. I now clearly recognize the need to discipline my mind for the task ahead. And it makes perfect sense, no matter how well trained the body is I will fail if the mind makes bad decisions.
For the day though the ride was good. I logged about 8.5 hours on Saturday, 112 miles, and was not overly fatigued after the ride. I found a fair amount of unpaved trail, and a review of the map after the ride revealed that there is much more still to explore. Can't wait.
As I try to use each ride as a learning opportunity, Saturday reminded me that the hours I am riding both before and during the event will likely tax my mind as much, if not more, than the body. That's a hard thing to anticipate when so much of the preparation centers around training the body, specifically addressing the known pain points. I now clearly recognize the need to discipline my mind for the task ahead. And it makes perfect sense, no matter how well trained the body is I will fail if the mind makes bad decisions.
For the day though the ride was good. I logged about 8.5 hours on Saturday, 112 miles, and was not overly fatigued after the ride. I found a fair amount of unpaved trail, and a review of the map after the ride revealed that there is much more still to explore. Can't wait.
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